


Drunk on You

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Barebacking, Drunk Sex, Intoxication, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes Kurt three times to fit his key in the lock of the apartment’s door, partly because Blaine is swaying heavily against his side, a warm, drunk weight keeping him off-balance, and partly because the alcohol in his own system is making the lock swim just enough in the plane of the door that he can’t quite catch it.</p>
<p>Bushwick futurefic, set within the next year or so, after Blaine’s graduation, no spoilers past 5x03</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk on You

**Author's Note:**

> So a while ago now, I posted some microcommentary on a gifset about Kurt and Blaine outside of Scandals from “The First Time” (where Blaine is drunk just wants to make art and help people, god, I love that boy) and got to talking about how I wanted to write Bushwick futurefic where Blaine gets drunk and kind of handsy and Kurt gets drunk and doesn’t push him away and give him a glass of water with a pat the way he usually does.
> 
> And then I couldn’t get the idea out of my mind, and here we are. I could write so much more of it, about clubs and cabs and Blaine getting buzzed at Thanksgiving with Burt, but here’s one night.
> 
> _Warnings: very consensual sex while intoxicated, barebacking_

It takes Kurt three times to fit his key in the lock of the apartment’s door, partly because Blaine is swaying heavily against his side, a warm, drunk weight keeping him off-balance, and partly because the alcohol in his own system is making the lock swim just enough in the plane of the door that he can’t quite catch it.

“Ha!” Kurt announces in triumph as the key slides home and he’s able to throw the lock and pull the door open to reveal their Bushwick home. “Here we are.”

“You’re _amazing_ ,” Blaine says, his breath damp against Kurt’s throat and his hand skimming up his side in a very distracting way.

“It’s just a door, Blaine,” Kurt tells him and leads him unsteadily through it. “I open it all the time.” He has to admit that it isn’t usually so difficult, though.

“Mm, the door is amazing, too.” Blaine waits until Kurt’s shut the door again and uses his grip on Kurt’s hips to push him back against it. Kurt doesn’t resist and hits it gently but firmly. “See? Amazing. Nice and solid. Strong. Just like you.”

Kurt grins at him, rolling his eyes fondly because Blaine is so _drunk_ , as handsy and rambling as ever. “Are you calling me fat?” he asks with a laugh, skimming his hands up Blaine’s arms.

“Why would I call you fat?” Blaine settles his hands up a few inches at Kurt’s waist. “Look at you. You’re perfect. You’ll always be perfect, no matter what.”

Kurt breathes in slowly as Blaine’s thumbs stroke his sides through his shirt. Even that little touch makes his skin tingle, especially after a night of Blaine shooting him flirty looks across the room, touching him when they found themselves beside each other, and dancing too close at Sam’s party. Even without the wine in his system to match the beer in Blaine’s, the night would have been a slow, lovely simmer of awareness for Kurt. He’s _always_ aware of Blaine, but especially so after an evening like this one where Blaine’s been chasing him even from afar. Kurt feels his knees give out a little with the need to let Blaine catch him and tries to keep his composure. “So what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t trust you when I ask you how I look in something.”

“I’m saying,” Blaine says, leaning in and kissing Kurt’s throat again, high up beneath his jaw, making Kurt’s eyelids flutter shut for a second, “that you’re _perfect_. And you’re _gorgeous_.” The next kiss he presses against Kurt’s skin is wet and open-mouthed. “And I love you.”

“I’m - “ Kurt shivers at the light touch of the tip of Blaine’s tongue against his skin. “I’m - “ He curls his fingers into the fabric of Blaine’s short sleeves and finds that the world is still spinning even when he opens his eyes, which have apparently slipped shut again. “I think I’m losing the thread of this conversation.”

Blaine’s laugh is low and rough, and he pushes in closer to Kurt, pressing him bodily against the hard surface of the door. “I’m okay with that,” he says. He lifts his head to look at Kurt with his lovely, alcohol-hazed eyes. “Kurt... You’re _perfect_.”

Kurt’s breath hitches a little at the intensity of the compliment, and he knows instead of believing him he’s supposed to give Blaine a quick peck on the cheek, fetch him some water, and roll him into bed to sleep off his night. That’s what he’d usually do: take care of him, no matter what intoxicating things he says. “You’re drunk,” he manages to say, even though he’s sighing into Blaine’s hands as they slip around to the small of his back.

“You’re still perfect,” Blaine tells him. He mouths at the line of Kurt’s jaw, his hands spread wide to keep Kurt flush up against him. He’s hard against Kurt’s hip, and the feel of him there makes Kurt’s head spin that much more. Kurt knows he ought to be used to it by now, it’s not something new, but Blaine’s body is always a thrill for him, that much more so when it’s aroused by _him_. “All of you is perfect. Your hair. Your heart. Your ass.” One of Blaine’s hands slips southwards to cup Kurt’s ass, squeezing gently. “Your ass is amazing, especially in these jeans.”

“I would never have guessed you felt that way, given how you kept trying to grind against it in the middle of Sam’s living room,” Kurt says, his voice dry and a little weak from Blaine’s closeness and possessive touch. “And the way you tried to corner me in his kitchen despite our very clear - ah - rule against groping or taking off clothes in front of our friends.”

Blaine squeezes him again, making a low, happy sound. “We were in another room.”

Kurt rolls his head against the door as his blood heats in his veins. If he weren’t already more than tipsy, he knows he’d be starting to feeling drunk, anyway, from the way Blaine is so appreciative of him, so attracted to him, and so vocal about it. As much as Blaine is always effusive about his feelings for him, the words and caresses still do something funny to his heart, especially tonight. And Blaine feels so _good_. His skims his hands over Blaine’s gorgeous shoulders and down his arms. “It’s an open apartment; it doesn’t count as another room when there aren’t _walls_.”

“You were bending over to tie your boot,” Blaine says, entirely unapologetic. “Your ass was right there.”

“It wasn’t in the cab back here,” Kurt says, his cheeks heating a little at the memory. “I swear that cab driver knows more about your feelings about it than Santana does, and she lives with us.” 

Blaine looks up at him, all wide eyes and grabby hands. “I’m sure he felt the same way about it, Kurt,” he says. “Everyone who sees your ass has to fall in love with it.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Kurt squirms a little against him, not quite sure if he’s trying to get away from the way Blaine is happily and quite thoroughly groping him. It feels really good, and he feels bad about it feeling good, because he knows Blaine gets this relentlessly handsy when he’s drunk. Kurt knows his job is to take care of him, but he doesn’t know how when he’s sober he usually finds it so easy to get Blaine to sleep; Blaine is so sexy and feels incredible, and Kurt doesn’t know how to resist him. His touch makes Kurt’s pulse race and the lights dance around them, the slide-grip-slide of his fingers possessive and tender all at once, his fingertips tracing the rear seam of Kurt’s jeans making him bite his own lip to keep from asking for more...

Blaine gets both palms on him and kneads the muscle with a groan. He sucks gently along Kurt’s throat. “You have the best ass in the world. God.” He rubs his erection against Kurt’s hip kind of as an afterthought, as far as Kurt can tell; it’s unfocused but still feels really hot, that maleness against him, that clear, physical response of Blaine to _him_. “I love your ass.”

“You said that already,” Kurt says thickly, and oh, his hands are in Blaine’s hair. He doesn’t remember doing that, only now his fingers are deep in Blaine’s hair, loosening the gel’s hold and petting him, keeping him close as Blaine moans against his throat.

“It’s worth repeating again. Re-repeating? Is that redundant? Is that a word?” Blaine slides his hands further down onto the backs of Kurt’s thighs and then up again. “And your _legs_. I love them, too.”

“Are you just taking inventory of every part of my body?” Kurt asks, arching against him. His skin is starting to feel a little tight, his brain going hazy with the combination of arousal and alcohol, and he slides his knee up the outside of Blaine’s leg, just to feel more of him and let him get closer.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, whether to the movement or the question Kurt doesn’t know, and he hooks his hand under Kurt’s thigh and pulls his leg up to his waist, stepping in between his legs and getting his cock right up against Kurt’s. He feels so _warm_ there, so hard and warm and _hot_ , fuck, so damn hot.

“God,” Kurt says, his head falling back with a hard thump against the door. He feels unsteady on only one foot, even with the way Blaine’s wrapping Kurt’s leg around his hip and holding him there. He’s too dizzy. They’ve never quite managed to have sex standing up without it being awkward and a lot less fun that it looks like it ought to be, and drunk it’s going to be impossible. They’re going to break something, like a lamp or an arm. Something important. “We should... maybe we should cool off.” If only he could remember why he usually just laughs at Blaine when he gets this way. Usually he finds it funny and endearing. But he doesn’t want to laugh now, not with everything sparking hot and just slightly dream-like between them. He doesn’t want to laugh at all.

“No,” Blaine says, rocking against him in a slow, dirty, wonderfully intimate grind. He looks right into Kurt’s eyes. “No, we should keep going. I want you, and I love you, and I want to show you.”

Kurt feels his breath shuddering in and out of his lungs as he looks back at Blaine. Blaine’s face is a little flushed, his eyes glassy, but everything in his expression is earnest and honest, so focused on Kurt. Everything about him is focused on Kurt; Blaine’s body is taut with desire, his hands tight on him, his eyes like beacons calling Kurt to him. And all of it’s full of _love_ , love for Kurt, love for being with him, love for everything they can do together, in life and in bed or possibly up against this door.

Kurt bites the inside of his lip and watches his fiance watch him with intense adoration in his eyes for everything that Kurt is, and he doesn’t know how he can ever resist this kind of attention.

“Then maybe you should take me to bed,” Kurt tells him and watches Blaine’s face light up in a fierce kind of joy.

“Only maybe?” Blaine asks and then kisses him hard and deep before Kurt can answer.

His kiss is as pushy as his hands are, mapping Kurt out like he can just _do_ that, and as much as Kurt loves being his own person he loves that he’s Blaine’s person, too. He loves having someone who gets to touch him whenever he wants, loves being able to touch back with no fear of rejection. He gets his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and kisses him back, grinding into him as Blaine ruts a little against him.

“I’d get on my knees for you right here,” Blaine murmurs huskily when he pulls away to suck on his throat again. “Suck you off and then fuck you against the door if you wanted. I’ll give you anything. I want to give you everything. Whatever you want.” His mouth works against Kurt’s skin, hot as a brand wherever it touches him. “You can fuck me instead. I love it when you fuck me. I love it when I can feel you inside me for hours after, when I can’t forget just how close we were, when everywhere I go it’s not just my heart but my body that’s thinking of you. You can fuck me if you want. I don’t care, Kurt. I just want you.”

His head falling back against the door again, Kurt lets out a high, breathy moan before he can stop himself. He’s never quite been able to overcome his embarrassment at how freely Blaine can just _say_ those kinds of things to him, but it’s still such a turn-on to hear everything that goes through Blaine’s head. “Blaine,” he says, helplessly clinging to his shoulders as the world sways around him. He knows it’s not all Blaine that’s making him so dizzy, but it feels like it is. It feels like it’s Blaine’s touch that’s making everything around him dim in comparison to the man pressing up along him, so bright and beautiful and hot and heavy and _hard_ tight against parts of him he never wants anyone but Blaine to touch.

“I’ve been watching you all night, you know,” Blaine says, moving sinuously against him like the most intimate sort of dance. “You really turn me on. Especially in those jeans, god.”

“I know,” Kurt replies, and his body follows Blaine’s lead like it always wants to, like it’s always wanted to since the first moment they met. No matter which one of them is in control, their bodies always seem to play in perfect counterpoint to the other’s melody. His hips catch Blaine’s rhythm, and he loses his breath for a second at how _good_ it feels to rub against him and get friction right where he wants it. “I saw you staring from across the room. I felt you when you were dancing with me. And then there was the kitchen. You’re not exactly subtle, Blaine.”

Blaine looks up at him, hitching Kurt’s leg up a little higher and throwing Kurt even more off balance; he teeters on his grounded foot and has to hold onto Blaine’s shoulders to keep upright. “Am I supposed to be subtle? Because you’re handsome and amazing, and I’m going to marry you. You’re going to be my husband. I thought I got to be turned on.”

“No, I - “ Kurt digs his fingers into Blaine’s shirt and shivers a little at the feel of the strength in the muscles beneath the fabric. “I mean, yes,” he says and tries to pull his mind back a little bit toward clarity. They’re still standing against the _front door_ , fully clothed, and even if Rachel and Santana don’t come home for a while, as promised, there still have to be better places for this. “Can we - let’s go to bed,” he says, patting Blaine’s arms to try to get his full attention.

“What’s wrong with here?”

“Because here we’re going to fall over at some point, and I don’t know about you, but I think this would go a lot better if we didn’t have to take a quick trip to the emergency room in the middle of it to set a broken bone.”

“Okay,” Blaine says, easing back an inch or two, letting Kurt take his own weight and sway forward from the door.

“Okay.” Kurt lowers his leg and tries not to care at how his stomach swoops in disappointment at not being quite so close, because he knows that they can get right back to it in a far less challenging place. Somehow he doesn’t chase after Blaine’s mouth, as much as he wants to despite his own warning. One of them has to remain at least a little bit sensible. It needs to be him. He can kiss Blaine some more in their bedroom; he shouldn’t be sad about it.

And yet a part of him just wants to reach out and pull Blaine back right against him, because these few inches between them are too much.

Watching him, Blaine adds with a soft smile, “But you’d be worth a broken bone. I’d break all of them for you.”

“No, thank you,” Kurt tells him with a little rub of his shoulders before smoothing down the wrinkles he made with his grip. “I prefer you unbroken, please.”

Blaine’s eyes go all dark and wet, and he says in a voice thick with emotion, “Because you _love_ me.”

Kurt pats Blaine’s shoulders again and then uses them to maneuver him a few more horrible inches away and then turn him around toward their room. “I do love you,” he says and remembers why he is usually able to resist Blaine when Blaine’s drunk, because he gets _so_ emotional so quickly he’s like a ping-pong ball full of feelings. That reminder gives Kurt the clarity to remember a few more important details. “And here we go. Let’s get some water on the way, because your head is going to be throbbing when you wake up.”

“You’re so good to me,” Blaine says, reaching up to grab Kurt’s hand and swaying closer so that he’s next to him again as Kurt steers them toward the refrigerator. He rubs his free hand up Kurt’s arm. “So hot and so good to me. I’m the luckiest person in the world.”

Kurt’s unsteady enough that he bumps his hip into one of the kitchen table chairs but quickly gets them back on the right course. “Ow.”

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks worriedly.

“Fine.” The spot where Kurt hit is a little sore, but it’s not a big deal. Then again, he’s feeling more than a little numb, at least in the places Blaine isn’t touching him. He might not be the best judge. God, he probably shouldn’t have had that cocktail Santana gave him; his head’s going to kill him in the morning, too. 

“Are you sure? Because I could kiss it better.” Blaine leans in more closely, his frown turning into a dopey kind of leer. “I’m really good at kissing things better.”

“I know you are,” Kurt says with a grin. “Trust me.” He flings open the refrigerator door and grabs two bottles of water, fumbling them a little until he can get them safely tucked into the crook of his elbow. He doesn’t remember bottles being quite so slippery. Maybe Rachel bought a new kind.

“Come on, Kurt,” Blaine says, pulling on his other arm. “I really want to kiss you some more, and Rachel’s ‘no making out in the kitchen’ rule is stopping me.”

“Sorry.” Kurt stumbles after him.

“I can’t wait until we live together,” Blaine tells him as he leads them through the apartment toward their room. “Alone together, I mean. Just us. I love the girls, but we’ll be able to make out wherever we want. And watch whatever we want on TV. And have sex with the door open. Or in the bathroom. Or on the couch.”

“We’ve had sex on the couch,” Kurt says and yanks the privacy curtain shut behind him as they trip into their bedroom. “We did it like two days ago. You didn’t mind breaking the rules, then.”

“I _blew you_ on the couch two days ago,” Blaine corrects. “It’s only bending the rules.” His grin goes wide. “You were really loud, too. And you pulled my hair. It was amazing.” He grabs the bottles of water from Kurt and tosses them onto the bed. They roll across the covers and land with a thump on the floor, out of sight.

“You deep-throated me. I still don’t know how you did that.” The memory is distracting enough that Kurt’s already falling onto the bed before he realizes that Blaine has pushed him onto it as well. Kurt struggles up onto his elbows.

“I like surprising you,” Blaine says, and he drops to his knees on the floor between Kurt’s spread legs where they dangle off the edge of the mattress. He runs his hands up Kurt’s thighs, and Kurt takes a shaking breath at the trail of fire that follows their path. Blaine smiles at him and dips his head to kiss high on Kurt’s inner thigh, not even hesitating to start in such an intimate spot, and there’s something in the touch that goes straight to Kurt’s heart as well as his erection, because Blaine _knows_ him, and he knows he’s welcome, and it’s all wonderful.

“You definitely did,” Kurt says.

Blaine kisses his leg again and then sits back on his heels, pulling Kurt’s foot into his lap. He inspects Kurt’s boot for a moment like it’s the world’s most complicated puzzle, then slowly begins to pull at the laces. “But that’s not sex,” he says, and Kurt’s about to argue because Blaine undressing him with such care _is definitely sex, god, he can feel the pull of the slipping laces tugging right into his gut_ , but then Blaine continues. “I mean, it is, but I was talking about being able to do what we want when we want. You could just have me on the coffee table in the middle of _America’s Next Top Model_ if you wanted to if we lived alone. There wouldn’t be rules or other people to worry about.”

“I - “ Kurt’s mouth goes dry at the visual in his mind, at Blaine laughing with him as they pull off his clothes, too eager to move the few feet to the bed, at Blaine being able to be his wherever he wants him. “Is that something you want me to do? I didn’t realize Tyra was that much of a turn-on for you.”

Blaine slips Kurt’s boot off of his foot and nuzzles in high against Kurt’s balls for a breathtaking moment before sitting back again and starting in on the second. “You’re a turn-on for me,’ he says.

Kurt isn’t really made to be passive, especially when there is Blaine to touch so close by, but he’s feeling lazy and heavy as waves of pleasure from Blaine’s hands on him - even just on his legs and boots - wash over him in slow, viscous ripples. He doesn’t want to haul Blaine up; he just wants more of it. Feeling selfish and unwilling to wait for Blaine’s hands on his skin, he starts in on the buttons of his own shirt. “For all I know, the coffee table is a turn-on for you when you’ve had this much to drink,” he says with a laugh.

“It’s you,” Blaine promises. He looks up and watches Kurt’s hands with dark eyes, his mouth dropping open for a moment. “God, look at you.” He sits up between Kurt’s legs and slides his palms up his thighs and onto his stomach as Kurt bares it. His hands are warm and damp on Kurt’s skin, and Blaine spreads his fingers wide and just drags them possessively up Kurt’s body with a moan he doesn’t even try to hold back. “ _Look_ at you.”

The expression on Blaine’s face is stunning to Kurt, all unfiltered amazement and _want_ , and Kurt knows just how he feels, because right now all he wants is Blaine. All he wants is Blaine wanting him like that, like he’s the most special and exceptional person in the world, like Kurt doesn’t have to prove it but just has to be himself and he _is_ it. Forever, every day of their lives. It twists in him, the need for that kind of love and the amazement that it’s right there in front of him.

The stay like that for a moment, Blaine’s hands on Kurt’s chest and Kurt’s eyes rapt on Blaine’s face. Then Blaine pulls back, all but rips off his own bow tie, pulls his short-sleeved shirt over his head - which takes a few extra seconds because he doesn’t unbutton the collar first, and Kurt’s about to do more than just grin at the sight and reach out to help when Blaine figures it out - and attacks Kurt’s belt.

“You’re so hot, Kurt,” Blaine says as Kurt struggles out of his own shirt. “I mean, I’ve seen a lot of porn, _so_ much porn, and you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen by far. Even in your clothes. Especially in them, fuck, Kurt, the way you tailor them makes your body look like a wet dream every single day. Nothing else compares.”

Kurt tosses his shirt back behind him off the bed and falls heavily back onto his elbows as Blaine gets the buckle of his belt free and yanks at the fly of his jeans. “Should I - “ he chokes out around the moan that wants to escape at the feel of Blaine’s hands undressing him. “Should I be worried about you watching all of that porn?”

Blaine makes another rough noise of pleasure as he starts to peel Kurt’s jeans and underwear down his hips, and Kurt lifts up to help him, his head dropping back at even the quick touch of Blaine’s fingers along his skin as they push the clothes off of him. “I didn’t always have you,” Blaine explains, quite serious. “Before we started having sex, and after when we couldn’t do it often enough, and then when we weren’t together at _all_...”

Kurt sits up and helps kick off his pants, reaching out toward Blaine, whose voice is going a little scratchy and sad. “You have me now.”

“I know.” Blaine catches Kurt’s hands and uses them to push him down onto the bed, Kurt’s legs still bent over the side. Blaine drapes himself over him, his fingers keeping Kurt’s wrists against the mattress, and kisses him again, hard and deep and for so long that lights are popping behind Kurt’s eyelids from lack of oxygen and the incredible feeling of Blaine’s mouth moving on his, of his still partly clothed body sliding over him, of his hands so strong on Kurt’s keeping him just where he wants him.

Pressing up against him, Kurt lets him in and lets him lead; he kisses back with everything he has and takes all Blaine has to give him until he finally has to tear his mouth away so that he can breathe.

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt gasps out, his chest heaving with need for air and need for Blaine.

“I love you so much,” Blaine murmurs against his jaw and kisses his way down his throat, his breastbone, his stomach, his hands following behind. He doesn’t linger anywhere, but he still doesn’t rush as he moves steadily down Kurt’s body.

Kurt’s eyes drift shut as he soaks up every delicious touch, all of it sinking through his skin and right into his heart. “Love you, too.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, close enough that his breath whispers over Kurt’s erection, “hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Whatever Kurt’s response might be is driven out of him as Blaine curls his fingers around him and sinks his mouth down, taking him in in a wet, dirty glide that makes Kurt’s back arch off of the bed with the sensation. “Oh, _god_.”

Blaine lifts up and does it again, getting him even deeper into his mouth; Kurt whites out for a moment at the sudden, intense shock of pleasure.

It’s - He’s - His -

Kurt’s toes curl against the bare floor, and his breath comes out in a high-pitched, thready whine.

Blaine sucks all the way up him, tonguing lavishly from the base to the head before pulling off with a slurp and diving right back in for more, all the way down.

Digging his fingers into the covers, Kurt pants and gasps, every muscle in his body tense from the fervor of Blaine’s touch and the way it makes all of his nerves feel like they’re misfiring, bright and too fast and all incredibly good.

He moans again, barely recognizing the sound as coming from his own throat.

Blaine doesn’t back off or slow down at all. He keeps up a brutal, breathless pace from the start. It’s a glorious surprise. It’s not that Blaine only has one way that he blows him, but he rarely just attacks him like that, starting hard and fast instead of building up to it. Blaine usually likes to draw it out and tease, and this is the opposite of that. This is Blaine working him hungrily from the first touch of his mouth, not holding back at all. This is Blaine _taking_ Kurt’s pleasure, pulling it from him, not giving him a second to settle or breathe as Blaine takes him in deep again and again.

“ _Blaine_.” Kurt rolls up on the bed and into him, his body sparking with every feeling Blaine is filling him with. It’s not just heat but also adoration and the relentless, unquestionable need Blaine has for him. It’s as right for his heart as it is for his body. God, is it right.

Blaine groans in response to Kurt’s thrust into the slick, generous, mobile heat of his mouth, and he pushes Kurt’s legs up to rest over his shoulders, edging in closer to take advantage of the angle and move his head faster. He releases his grip on Kurt’s cock, just using his mouth in a hungry, not quite rhythmic slide, each exhalation heavy with what Kurt can hear is his own arousal. Blaine runs his hands up the back of Kurt’s thighs and down again as he sucks him, his palms coming to rest on the lower edge of Kurt’s raised ass.

“Kurt,” Blaine says hoarsely, mouthing at Kurt’s balls as his thumbs press into the flesh of his ass and then closer, deeper, to rest at his entrance.

Kurt’s body feels like it’s vibrating, strung out and overloaded already from the fervent attention and the careful, spit-slick press of the tips of Blaine’s thumbs there, pulling at him just a little, barely starting to coax him open. He strokes his heel over Blaine’s shoulder, the best caress he can manage as Blaine rubs over him some more and then pushes harder with his thumbs. Kurt feels his body _give_ to him, the first tiny bit, and he chokes against his own breath, because it’s so _right_.

He doesn’t ever want to resist Blaine.

Blaine pulls back and spreads his thumbs apart, watching himself stretch Kurt from the outside, and then pushes in close again. He makes a broken sound deep in his throat, and he goes for Kurt’s cock with his mouth, missing on the first try and dragging it along the stubble-rough plane of his cheek in a sweet-sharp burst of friction before he gets his lips over the head and swallows him down so smoothly. His thumbs work themselves in a little deeper as he groans around Kurt, and Kurt flings an arm over his face and tries not to come just from the dry press of Blaine’s fingers and the wet wonder of his mouth.

“Blaine,” Kurt says, like it’s the only word that’s left to him, and he rocks up into Blaine’s mouth, up against the heat of his tongue and the ridge of his soft palate, into the suction and pleasure Blaine’s giving him, unable to stop himself and not quite sure why he would, not when Blaine’s just _letting_ him, holding him up and working him open and letting him.

Blaine hums out softly, something like agreement, and goes down deeper on the next bob of his head, flexing his tongue along him on the way up. He digs his fingers into the muscle of Kurt’s ass and his thumbs into the place Kurt wants him most and works with Kurt’s movements, taking it all and giving so much in return. He’s eager and fast, like he’s hungry, like he wants it just as much as Kurt does. Like he _needs_ Kurt in his mouth.

Kurt’s body begins to wind tight like a spring, caught up in the pressure of Blaine’s hands and the glory of his talented mouth. He cries out again, high and lost, as Blaine takes him that much deeper, his throat clasping around the head of Kurt’s cock for a second. “I - “ he warns, but either Blaine doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care, because he just keeps up his fervent rhythm. “Blaine!” Kurt looks down his body to Blaine’s dark head between his legs, sees the look of intense pleasure on his face, hears the dirty, sexual slurp of his mouth, and grabs Blaine’s hair in a rush, holding him there and riding up into him instead of stopping him like he means to, but, fuck, it feels so _good_ , it feels great, it feels perfect, and he is just so _close_.

Blaine looks up with sex-glazed eyes and watches him, swallowing around him as the world stops and Kurt begins to come. Blaine breathes out a low, happy laugh and pulls his mouth off of him to let him stripe thick spurts over his belly. The intense, deep pleasure in his eyes just makes Kurt come that much harder, the sight of Blaine enjoying him and wanting this making it so much better.

Kurt’s chest is still heaving, his eyes unable to focus on anything except for Blaine and the stars dancing between them, when Blaine ducks his head and begins to clean him off with long, lewd passes of his tongue.

“You - “ Kurt barely can form the word, his cock twitching at the visual of Blaine smugly licking him clean.

“I’m giving up porn forever,” Blaine insists, swirling his tongue one last time around Kurt’s navel. He pets Kurt’s thighs and kisses his stomach before pushing himself to his feet. “All I need is you.”

Kurt watches him, still shaking through his aftershocks, as Blaine grabs the lube from the bedside table. Blaine’s flushed and damp with sweat, his shoulders strong, his waist narrow, his muscles so fluid in their movements beneath his skin, his cock a hard line in his pants, and he’s just ridiculously gorgeous. Kurt can’t wait to touch him again. “Okay.”

But first he has to keep himself from falling off the bed; he’s dangerously close to the edge and feels too weak to hold himself up. Kurt gets a foot on the bed and pushes himself up the comforter a bit, flopping back on it without any grace.

“Hey, don’t go too far,” Blaine says with a laugh, catching his ankle, then crawling up between his legs and leaning in for another kiss.

“Never.” Kurt cradles his perfect face and drinks in his own bitter aftertaste on Blaine’s lips, chasing it deep into Blaine’s mouth, kissing him and kissing him until Blaine’s moaning through each exhalation and his arms are shaking where he’s keeping himself up above Kurt.

Panting, Blaine reaches down to sweep one of Kurt’s legs up and get his hand between them to rub lewd circles over his entrance.

“You’re going to need to take your pants off if you want to do that,” Kurt reminds him, twisting up a little at the sensation and Blaine’s lack of hesitation. His skin feels almost too alive and aware, but it’s still thrilling to be touched with such definite purpose. Not that Blaine’s ever shy of touching him, but he’s usually a bit more courteous, asking first instead of just doing, even though he’s always welcome.

“You were getting away,” Blaine says with a dark grin. “I had to act fast.” Sitting back on his feet, he grabs the lube and squeezes some onto his fingers.

“I wasn’t getting aw- _ah_ ,” Kurt says, robbed of his train of thought as Blaine pushes two slippery fingers deep into him. It’s too much too fast, even as pliant as his body is after his orgasm, but it’s also _incredible_. He’s sensitive and so suddenly full, full of _Blaine_. Kurt clenches helplessly around the intrusion, panting for air through the burn of his muscles, and spreads his legs wider to allow for even more.

“ _God_ , Kurt,” Blaine says reverently. Watching him, he thrusts and twists his fingers, but just as Kurt starts to relax into it Blaine pulls them out again. He unbuckles his own belt and pushes his pants down his hips with impatient hands.

His erection springs free, flushed and slick at the tip, and Kurt’s mouth waters as he watches it bob in front of him. Blaine is such a _man_ , all hard planes and hard cock. He’s a man in his clothes, all buttoned up and bow-tied, but he’s even more of one, more real, when out of them. He’s _Kurt’s_ , and Kurt wants to touch him. He wants to taste him. He wants to feel him inside.

“Fuck,” Blaine mutters, and Kurt re-focuses to find Blaine struggling with his pants at his knees.

“Let me help - “ Kurt starts, but he’s distracted by the sight of Blaine fisting his erection, slicking it up in quick strokes.

Shaking his head, Blaine says, “It doesn’t matter,” and then he’s surging up between Kurt’s legs, positioning himself as Kurt tips his legs up and wraps them around Blaine’s waist, and sliding home in a slow, steady thrust.

Kurt gasps, rolling his head back against the covers, because even though it doesn’t exactly hurt it is a _lot_ to take all at once; Blaine is thick and hard and not giving him time to adjust to the burn and stretch before he’s pulling back and thrusting in again in a gentle but insistent roll of his hips.

“Kurt, Kurt.” Blaine sits back, sliding his hands under Kurt’s back, and moves Kurt’s body where he wants it, closer and more in his lap; Kurt blinks up at him, his heart in his throat at how simple it all is to let it happen, let Blaine just have what he needs, have _him_. “Oh,” Blaine says and smiles, like he’s pleased, and then he bends down again, his hands still flat beneath Kurt’s ribs, and fucks into him harder as Kurt reels from the sensation and the sure, unhesitating way Blaine’s touching him.

Kurt shudders and relaxes as he feels his body stretch and flex with Blaine’s movements. He’s sated enough that his limbs are slow to respond, but he gets his arms around Blaine’s neck and pulls him even closer, crossing his ankles behind Blaine’s back. He can’t help but let out a sound of surprise when Blaine thrusts even deeper. It’s so good, but it’s so _much_. He can feel every inch of him all the way up into his throat. He can feel his body yield around him. He can feel pleasure prickle through him like pins and needles with each needy push of Blaine’s body into his.

“God, the way you let me in, Kurt,” Blaine says. “Your body, your heart. You just open up for me. You let me in.” He thrusts and holds, grinding deep, like he’s enjoying being there, and Kurt gapes up at the ceiling at the hot press of Blaine’s balls against him and the dirty grind of his hips. Kurt doesn’t think he’s going to be able to come again, but he’s not quite getting soft, either, not with his insanely sexy fiance doing such wonderful things with him. “You always let me in. I’ll never get over that.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, as choked by the emotion welling up in him at Blaine’s words as he is by Blaine’s touch.

Blaine slips down further, putting his weight on his elbows, and he kisses Kurt hard, his tongue not quite in rhythm with his hips but all the better for it. His breath still smells of beer as it fans around Kurt’s face. He’s so close Kurt can barely make out the apartment around them. His field of vision is all Blaine: his face, his hair, his shoulders, his hands coming up to tilt Kurt’s head back so he can mouth down Kurt’s throat. His hearing is filled with Blaine’s breath, his low moans, the jingle of Blaine’s open belt caught somewhere around his legs, the slap of Blaine’s body against his and the slippery squelch of the lube with each sharp thrust. His body is entirely caught up in him, pressed down hard into the mattress, kissed and touched, opening up to him again and again as Blaine fucks into him, every inch of him Blaine’s and Blaine’s alone.

Kurt knows there’s a whole world out there beyond their two bodies, but he can barely even think of it when Blaine’s sucking bruising kisses at the base of his throat and driving his hips harder and harder into him.

“I love you, I love you,” Blaine says, cupping his face and covering Kurt’s mouth with imprecise, eager kisses. “I can feel your heartbeat all around me.”

“Blaine,” Kurt begs, his body thrumming with Blaine’s touch. He pulls at Blaine’s shoulders, filling his palms with the luxury of Blaine’s honey-gold skin and trying to get him somehow closer.

Blaine sets his knees and fucks him harder, holding himself just up far enough that they can watch each other. Blaine’s face is hazy and flushed with arousal, but his eyes are sharp on Kurt’s. Kurt knows his own expression is flushed with the needs of his own body, but he doesn’t care. All he wants to see is Blaine. All he wants to do is feel him. All he wants to do is be loved by him.

Kurt knows that he has a life that he loves to lead and important goals he is reaching for every day, but in that dazzling, dreamy moment Blaine is all he could ever want.

“You’re amazing,” Blaine tells him between gasping breaths. “You’re the most amazing person.”

“You are,” Kurt gasps in reply. “You shine. Every day. All night. I saw you all night. I wanted you all night.”

Blaine blinks hard against the sudden wetness welling up in his eyes. “Kurt - “

“I did,” Kurt says softly as Blaine’s expression turns more strained and he begins to shake in Kurt’s arms. He pulls Blaine in against him again and melts beneath him, just holding on. “I always do.”

“Fuck, _Kurt_ ,” Blaine groans, loud and heartfelt, and he loses his rhythm, his hands touching Kurt’s sides and legs and chest and ass as he moves with increasing urgency. “I need you so much.”

“You _have_ me,” Kurt insists, and he moans as Blaine hauls his hips up higher, changing the angle enough to get that much deeper. “Oh, god.” He’s shaking, too, he realizes, wound up and desperate again, maybe still, he isn’t sure; he’s just lost in it. “Come _on_ , Blaine.”

Blaine bends into him even more, his sweaty hair brushing against Kurt’s face, and snaps his hips a few last, wonderful, perfect times before he groans again, throbbing and spilling deep inside of him. He rocks his hips through it, slowing and gentling but still moving as he pants against Kurt’s throat.

Kurt can’t come, he’s not quite there yet, but god, he wants to so much that it’s almost an exquisite torture to have this gorgeous man on top of him and not quite be able to reach what he needs. But still, it’s _Blaine_ , and Kurt loves him. He loves him so much his heart feels full just thinking of him when they’re apart, and when they’re together it’s so much _more_... Kurt swallows around the lump in his throat and holds him close, shivering around him.

“You’re the best thing in the entire world,” Blaine tells him. He looks up and gives Kurt the widest, happiest, dopiest, and most satisfied smile he’s ever seen. His hair is curling with sweat, his face is flushed, and he looks so radiantly _beautiful_. “The best thing. I want to stay like this forever.”

“You’re really going to need to do something about this if we do,” Kurt says with a hoarse laugh, rubbing his erection up against the soft line of hair on Blaine’s belly, slick with the remnants of saliva and semen and sweat.

“I can do that.” Blaine shifts his weight, still inside of him, and gets his hand around him, fisting him fast and tight, just the way Kurt likes it when he’s close.

“I was - ha - teasing - oh, fuck, like that,” Kurt gasps out, and if there’s too much friction and not enough air in the world it doesn’t matter.

“See?” Blaine dips his head to kiss Kurt’s chest. “I’ve got you.”

Not quite able to form words to respond, Kurt ruts up into Blaine’s perfect grip, fucking himself on Blaine’s softening cock, and it barely takes any time at all before he’s twisting up against him, close, close, _there_. Blaine keeps stroking him, the way he’s learned Kurt likes it best, and guides him through it as he starts to come. It feels like more of an overwhelming aftershock than an orgasm, really, a little too empty to be a full release, but he still feels it all the way into his scalp as pleasure punches out of him on a loud moan.

Shuddering with the intensity of it, Kurt tightens around Blaine inside him, digs his toes into the sheets, and forgets how to do anything at all but be loved by this man.

The world spins and spins around them, and as he slowly melts into the bedding Kurt can only drift with it and feel wrung out, more than a little awed, and utterly, utterly adored.

Kurt blinks his eyes open after a little while to find Blaine flopped on his stomach beside him, his head on his arm and his eyes drooping nearly all the way shut. Kurt smiles at the sight of him, feeling bowled over and contented beyond reason, and with a hum of appreciation he trails his eyes down the gorgeous bare length of his body... only to find that there is a bright red puddle of fabric down around Blaine’s calves.

“You’re still wearing your pants,” Kurt says, starting to laugh, and he finds that he can’t stop himself. It’s _ridiculous_. Blaine is wearing _pants_. Or he isn’t not wearing pants, anyway. It’s not that they’ve never had sex with some of their clothes still on, especially when their roommates were due home and it was just a quick blowjob, but this is something else entirely... Kurt can’t stop laughing at how silly it is.

“You’re hot,” Blaine says, apparently some sort of explanation.

Kurt tries to push himself up to help Blaine out of them, only his body is sore and weak, barely responsive, and he ends up flopping onto his side and curling his arm over Blaine’s sweaty back instead. “In clothes and out of them, that’s what you told me. Are you trying to do both at once?”

“You’re _hot_ ,” Blaine tells him again, frowning a little. “I didn’t want to wait. There were so many more things I wanted to do with you tonight, Kurt, like rim you and ride you, so many things, but I couldn’t wait. I just needed you. I love you, and I needed you, and I don’t care about my _pants_.” He sounds petulant, like it’s important for him that Kurt understands and he’s affronted that it isn’t obvious.

“You will when you try to walk,” Kurt says, smoothing his hand down Blaine’s back.

“I don’t think I could walk even without them right now.” Blaine kicks his feet fitfully, unable to dislodge his clothes, and then leans his head in closer as if telling Kurt a secret. “I think I’m pretty drunk.”

Kurt has to laugh again. “I _know_ you are. It’s okay.” He kisses the tip of Blaine’s nose.

Blaine’s eyes are shining with warmth as they look into his; they’re sparkly and beautiful, and Kurt smiles into them, his heart so light. “I think you are, too.”

“Maybe,” Kurt says with yet another laugh. The room spins giddily around him, and he thinks Blaine’s probably right. It’s not just sex that’s making him feel off-balance even while lying down. “Definitely. What did Sam put in that cocktail?”

“I don’t know, but I saw Santana pour a whole bunch of vodka into it after he made it.”

“And you didn’t stop her?” Kurt asks.

“Well,” Blaine says, tiptoeing his fingers down Kurt’s nose and making Kurt’s eyes cross uncomfortably, “you said you needed to relax tonight. And she was the one who handed you the drink. I figured you knew.”

Kurt doesn’t really remember the moment, but that does sound like something he’d have known.

“Besides,” Blaine says as he trails his fingertips over Kurt’s mouth, “sometimes you dance dirty with me when you’ve been drinking. That drives me crazy.”

Shivering as Blaine’s fingers ghost down his throat toward his chest, Kurt grins at him - because he _does_ dance that way sometimes with Blaine, when he can’t get the music and Blaine out of his blood and his hips and his heart, and he loves watching Blaine’s eyes go dark when he does - and says, “It was really hot how much you wanted me tonight. I saw you watching me.” He smiles at the memory of Blaine’s eyes fixed on him from across the room while Kurt was dancing with Rachel.

“You didn’t seem so happy about it in Sam’s kitchen.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, though he’s too comfortable to be able to find much heat in his disdain. “Well, pardon me if I didn’t want to come in my jeans in sight of everyone we know.”

“It wasn’t _everyone_ ,” Blaine insists.

“Is that really the point?” Kurt asks, raising his eyebrows. He thinks that gesture is probably not sufficient to make _his_ point, and he lifts up onto his elbow only to notice just how sticky he is. His skin pulls, and there’s definitely something wet sliding downwards on his stomach. He looks more closely at himself and Blaine. “We’re a _mess_ ,” he says in some surprise. Not that he doesn’t remember what they did, but don’t they usually clean up at some point? Maybe this wasn’t the night to skip a condom; he just isn’t in the mood to go find a towel or take a shower, but ugh. They’re going to have to do so much laundry.

Blaine grins over at him, as wide as his face allows, and says, “Yeah.”

Kurt swats him on the arm and then lets his hand linger there, because Blaine’s arms really are so nice. “Don’t be smug.”

“I can be smug,” Blaine says, still grinning. “It was awesome. Totally worth the mess.”

Kurt’s smile rises up out of his heart and right up onto his own face, because despite the mess or maybe in a way because of it he feels stretched out and sore and loved and _amazing_ , and he leans over and gives Blaine a loud smack of a kiss. “Yeah, it was.”

“Oh my god, would you two just go to _sleep_ already?” Santana yells from the living room, just on the other side of the bookcases separating their room from the rest of the apartment.

His ears immediately starting to burn at the realization that they weren’t alone and hadn’t been trying to be quiet at all, Kurt tries to muffle his laughter against Blaine’s chest. He knows he ought to be more mortified, but it really had been amazing sex. He can’t be sorry about that, even if Santana heard them.

“And put on some clothes before you do!” Santana continues. “I don’t want to see the hobbit’s junk again when he wanders out to take a leak at four in the morning. Although at least it finally answered the question about whether or not he was shaped like a Ken doll under there. Not that tonight hasn’t made that perfectly clear on its own.”

“Oh, god,” Blaine mutters with an embarrassed laugh. He curls more tightly around Kurt.

“Blaine has clothes on; he’s wearing pants!” Kurt calls back to her, torn between being affronted and desperately amused.

Blaine lifts his head enough to say, “I am!” He kicks his feet a little against the fabric trapping his ankles, and he and Kurt duck their heads to stifle their giddiness before it erupts.

“We can all talk about Lady Hummel’s juicy clothing kink more in the morning,” Santana replies in a purr that Kurt knows he’d usually find dangerous, only Blaine’s started to run his fingers through Kurt’s hair in a way that makes him want to purr all on his own, “but for now just put on some pajamas and go to _bed_ so I can get some sleep without wanting to smother myself with my pillow so I don’t have to hear your slapping skin and sappy kisses anymore.”

Kurt tips up his head so that he can reach Blaine’s mouth and give him yet another sweet kiss in response. Blaine grins against his lips and hums happily into it. Kurt hums back and opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, touching their tongues together, his heart warm and unguarded and full of joy for him. It’s so sweet, not at all chaste but also not a means to an end. It’s just pure _affection_ , the two of them expressing how happy they are to be together.

It might have started as a silent taunt of Santana, but Kurt realizes it is exactly what he wants, this soft, gentle connection with Blaine, lazily trading kisses and caresses as they slide closer together on the bed, hands gliding over skin without any real intent beyond showing their love.

“I can hear that!” Santana yells after a minute or two.

Stroking down Blaine’s back, Kurt pulls his mouth away long enough to call over his shoulder, “There are extra ear plugs in the bathroom.” Kurt kisses him again and soaks up even more of his attention and adoration.

“I just took the last pair,” Rachel says loudly and with obvious tension from the direction of her room. “And my white noise machine doesn’t go any higher. This is why we don’t get Kurt drunk, Santana. He’s the sensible one.”

Blaine kisses the corner of Kurt’s mouth and murmurs with warm eyes and an even warmer smile, like he’s not bothered at all, “I love you.”

Kurt smiles back, right from his heart, right into Blaine’s beautiful face. “I love you, too.”

“I seriously need an antacid,” Santana says from somewhere that doesn’t matter, because all that matters to Kurt is Blaine.

“She’s not wrong,” Blaine tells him, stroking his fingertips down Kurt’s cheek.

“Does your stomach hurt?” Kurt asks with some worry. He leans up on his elbow to check him over.

Blaine shakes his head. “No. About clothes. And sleep. We should do that.”

“Oh.” Reaching out with his foot to toe at Blaine’s jeans, Kurt says dryly, biting back his grin, “But you’re already wearing clothes, remember?”

“Come on,” Blaine says, struggling to sit up and offering Kurt his hands to help him up as well. “Come sleep with me.”

The genuine sweetness in his voice is impossible to resist, as is the idea of being able to be close to him without the mess. Kurt lets himself be pulled upright, as much as it renews his awareness of slipperiness in odd places, but he doesn’t mind all that much. Even though it’s surprisingly tricky to find his balance even on two feet right now, he feels really good. He feels really happy. He feels really comfortable in his own body and the truly amazing things it can do with Blaine’s body.

He might be drunk, but he knows the happiness has nothing to do with the wine or the vodka. It’s all from Blaine.

The vodka just makes him think about it and act on it a little differently, maybe. He doesn’t mind at all.

So it’s with a soft smile that Kurt reaches out to help free his fiance from his clothes, and they get cleaned up with the emergency wipes in Blaine’s nightstand and sway close to each other as they pull on pajamas side by side. Blaine fetches the bottles of water and puts one on each side of the bed for the morning, smoothing his hand over Kurt’s back as he passes in a caress that makes Kurt want to arch right into him.

Kurt tosses the comforter onto the floor and pulls the still clean sheets and blankets up over them as they crawl into bed together.

The world swims and spins as he lies flat again, endless gentle waves rocking him even after Blaine settles into his arms, smelling of beer and sweat and laundry detergent. Kurt feels his own muscles loosen and hums with contentment at the comfortable, familiar shape of him right where he belongs.

“This was the best night,” Blaine breathes where he’s tucked against Kurt’s neck. He sighs out happily as Kurt begins to stroke his fingers through his hair. “Even with Santana yelling at us.”

Kurt knows they’re going to hear about it tomorrow, thinking of Santana and Rachel and privacy and rules. He knows some of what they’re going to say is probably going to be right, that he’d probably agree if he were in their shoes. He just can’t find it in himself to care all that much.

He stretches a little and closes his eyes, feeling wrung out and loved and thoroughly satisfied. He presses a kiss into Blaine’s hair and finds a comfortable spot for his arm around Blaine’s shoulder. They fit together so well, he and Blaine, in all ways. It takes Kurt’s breath away.

Everything feels warm and wonderful here with Blaine. Everything feels perfect.

And he gets to marry him and have it all forever.

Smiling to himself, Kurt kisses Blaine’s head again and breathes out slowly as sleep starts to creep up on him, further blurring the edges of his already blurry mind.

“The best,” he agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> I am spoiler-free! Please don't spoil me for anything upcoming on the show! Thank you! :)


End file.
